


Loyalty Amongst Thieves

by whatyoufish4



Series: I Assure You, Brother [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Gen, So some of the Avengers are a bit mean, they are pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 05:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15112622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatyoufish4/pseuds/whatyoufish4
Summary: “Call it what it is,” said Rogers. “A mutiny.”Loki’s smile grew. “I’d prefer,” he said, “To call it an opportunity.”(Being an adventure of the crew of the pirate shipAvenger)





	Loyalty Amongst Thieves

“Call it what it is,” said Rogers. “A mutiny.”

Loki’s smile grew. “I’d prefer,” he said, “To call it an opportunity.”

They were sitting in the forecastle, close together to make themselves heard over the sounds of creaking timber and the waves slapping against the ship’s hull. Half the crew was currently on watch – and the captain was tucked safely into his cabin – but Loki had gathered Rogers, Stark, and the Widow to hear him out.

A dangerous move. Was there any better kind?

“What opportunity would that be, exactly?” Stark folded his arms across the circular scar gouged into the flesh above his breastbone. “The opportunity to betray our captain, like the common backstabbers and betrayers the world makes us out to be? Or the opportunity to elect _you_ captain in his place?”

“What makes you think we’re not happy with the captain we’ve got?” Rogers added.

Loki hissed a laugh. “Do you truly think so little of me, to imagine that I would’ve missed all the signs?”

“What signs?” Stark demanded.

“Where shall I start? With the whispered conversations that dry up when the captain approaches? Or the clenched fists and dark looks cast his way once his back is turned? The mood of this ship has turned as black as her sails.” Loki paused, taking a moment to stare at each one of them in turn. Only the Widow seemed willing to meet his eyes. “Admit it. You’re tired of serving a captain who only plunders the richest merchants and shows mercy to those who surrender. You’ve been muttering of mutiny for weeks. Rogers has already convinced half of you to start calling him ‘Captain’.”

“How do you –” Rogers blurted out, then shot Loki a murderous look when the other began to smirk.

“This whole conversation is risky.” Stark shifted, looking uncomfortable. “We shouldn’t even be talking about this.”

“You sound like Banner,” Loki chided. “Have you so little courage? We are well within our rights to elect a new captain if we feel our current master is no longer serving our best interests!”

“‘Our’ best interests. Your words, Lie-smith, not ours. We’ll simply deny this conversation ever happened.” Stark withdrew one of the daggers belted at his waist and began twirling it between his fingers, looking for all the world as if he was contemplating tossing it at Loki’s head. “The captain – the real one, no offense, Rogers – the captain doesn’t have any reason to believe you over us. Less reason to believe you, really.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Rogers glared at Loki, who merely smirked in return. “You know, we could just kill you now and toss you overboard. 

Loki simply continued to smirk. Stark raised an eyebrow. “You must think you have some card to play to make the risk worthwhile,” said Stark. He wrapped his hand around the dagger hilt and pointed the blade at Loki. “Care to share?”

Loki leaned forward, dropping his voice to a muted hiss. “He found it. _We_ found it. Only he’s not told you the truth of it.”

“The truth of what?” Stark stared at him. “What’ve we found?”

Loki’s smile glinted in the flickering light of the lantern. “We found a map.”

Their understanding was immediate, he could tell. And yet they tried to hide it, feigning confusion even as they all huddled closer together. Rogers’s voice came out almost a whisper. “A map to – what, exactly?”

In answer, Loki reached into the inner pocket of his vest and tossed the bundle of vellum onto the crate serving as their makeshift table. As one, the others jolted slightly and stared at it, until the Widow finally reached out to unwrap it. When she was halfway through, she froze, her head jerking up to stare at Loki. She was too controlled to let her alarm show on her face, but her eyes seared into his with a glow like St. Elmo’s fire. 

Stark inhaled sharply. “Is that what I think it is? …”

“ _Open_ it,” Loki murmured, and then the Widow laid the open piece of parchment across the crate. It was a map, lines faded and weathered but still perfectly legible, detailing an island shaped like a scallop shell. Dotted lines and numbers scattered across the center, swirling to meet in the middle – where was drawn a thinly-scratched X.

“You’re not going to try and get us to believe –” began Rogers.

Loki smiled and held up a finger: _just a moment._ Then he turned his hand, palm-up, and held it out before Stark.

Stark stared at Loki’s proffered palm, then at Loki himself. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just a little blood magic,” said Loki, wiggling his fingers at Stark’s dagger. Stark blanched.

“Going to have us strung up as witches next,” muttered Rogers. “Why we ever even agreed to this meeting –”

There was a sudden flash, a glint of lantern light flashing off twirling steel. Before even Loki could react, the Widow had spun her own dagger into her hand and slashed it across Loki’s palm. Blood welled in the long, shallow cut, and Loki hissed in surprise.

“Tired of listening to you lot argue,” she said, wiping the blade clean on the leg of Stark’s trousers. Stark opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and drew sullenly silent.

Loki laughed. “I did ask,” he said, amiably enough, and then drew his bleeding palm across the map. The blood seeped darkly into the lines of the map, then began to coalesce, flashing gold in the light of the lantern. The map began to glow, the sketched lines fading away as, for an instant, the island and markings were swallowed up by a vivid image of a glowing sapphire gemstone, shining up from the page so brightly it cast their faces in hues of blue. Then the burst of color was gone, and an ordinary map lay before them once more, the fresh stains of blood vanished.

The four of them stared at the plain lines of ink, silent.

“‘Od’s blood,” muttered Rogers, face slightly gray. 

Wordlessly, Stark handed Loki a strip of rag, which Loki used to bind around his still-bleeding hand.

“Where’d you get this?” asked the Widow, her gaze fixed on Loki. Watching, he knew, to see if she believed whatever he had to say next.

“I didn’t,” said Loki, arranging the makeshift bandage neatly around his palm. “The captain did. He found it, in the hold of our last prize. I saw him pouring over it one morning when I went into his cabin. He tried to hide it before I could see what it was. Wasn’t quite fast enough.”

This appeared to shock the others even more than the appearance of the map had. “Why – why hide it from us?” Stark sputtered at last. “Why not tell us? A map that could lead us to the Tessering Stone?? He’s been looking for it since we became a crew. All of us have!” 

“He was keeping it for himself.” Rogers shook his head. “He’s the traitor, not us.”

“He doesn’t trust you,” murmured Loki. “I’m not the only one to hear your whispers of discontent. He fears it will lead to mutiny.” 

Rogers and Stark locked eyes. “It’s not mutiny if the captain turned on us first,” said Rogers.

“Lad was right in the first place,” said Stark slowly. “We’re within our rights to elect a new captain. To elect _you_.”

“Won’t be easy,” mused Rogers. “Val and Korg are loyal. So’s Banner, to a point.”

“Let me talk to Banner.” Stark dug the point of his dagger into the crate, chipping out bits of wood as he spoke. “He’s loyal, but he was my man long before the captain’s. I might be able to turn him round.”

“What about Korg?”

Loki dared to lean in and dismiss this concern with a flick of his hand. “Korg’s loyalty lies to the position, not the man. He’s too affable to be much of a challenge. Val, on the other hand …” He trailed off. “You might have some trouble with Val.”

“And Hawke?” asked Rogers, glancing at the Widow out of the corner of his eye. “Do you think we could convince him to ally with us?”

“We’ll turn as many of the crew to our side as we can,” said Loki, when the Widow remained silent. “The rest, we can maroon alongside the captain. Think of it, mates. The Tessering Stone, in our hands! A talisman with the power to carry the _Avenger_ to any port the sun touches – and beyond. We’ll outrun every merchant and Navy crew what sails the sea. We’ll be unstoppable.” He grinned at them all, feeling his eyes blazing with the dream they’d all been carrying for so long. Myth the Tessering Stone may have been, but they’d seen more than their fair share of the supernatural – even if Loki alone had been willing to learn any magic for himself.

But the crew still understood magic well enough. They believed in the truth of the Tessering Stone, and what it was capable of. And now, now, it was within their grasp. Within _Loki’s_ grasp.

Only the captain’s pigheadedness stood in the way. Well, not for much longer, if Loki had his way —

“Do you expect us to believe any of this?” said the Widow suddenly, staring at Loki. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not saying I fault your suspicions, but really, now – what more can I do? I’ve already paid a quite-literal blood oath.”

“Not about the map. That’s real enough. I’m talking about your suggestion of betrayal.” When he looked at her in surprise, she smirked at him. “Come now, Quartermaster. Don’t play dumb. The captain isn’t just your friend – he’s your brother.”

“Brother?” Loki gave a hollow laugh. “It’s been some years since we’ve all learned the lie of that.”

“Yes, yes, we all know that song of yours. The truth revealed about your birth, changing everything you thought you once knew.” The Widow was glaring at him. Not in hatred, or even really in anger, but rather with a sheer intensity, as if she meant to strip away every layer of him, until she could see his soul laid bare across his bones. “It doesn’t change the fact that you were raised together. Played together. Fought together. Killed together. You are his _brother,_ Lie-smith, no matter what you claim.”

“Pretty words,” Loki spat. “Nothing more. Raised together, maybe. But never truly family. Not by blood. Not by birthright.”

The Widow snorted. “Don’t expect us to believe –” 

“Believe what? That I’ve turned my back on a fiction? He was tied to me once, by secrets and lies. But that myth has faded.” His hand was aching. He was, Loki realized, clutching his fists so tightly that his freshly-wounded palm was beginning to drip blood. He eased his hand, forcing himself to calm. “It was a story we were told, of a bond between brothers. But that’s all it ever was: a story. Prettily told, easily discarded. As was I. He is brother to me no longer.”

“So you say,” said Stark, his eyes on Loki. “But how are we really to believe you?”

“I brought you the map, stole it from him myself.” Loki could feel his hands trying to curl back into fists. He settled for running his fingers along the bandage of his other hand, trying to massage away the sting in his palm. “What more proof do you need?”

“ _More,_ ” said Rogers, his face grave. “Something to prove your loyalty to us over him.”

“You could let us hang onto the map,” Stark said. Loki immediately reached out, snatching the map from the table and hastily trying to refold it. Stark raised an eyebrow at him. “That a problem, Quartermaster?”

“Of course it is,” snapped Loki. “I stole it from the captain’s quarters, to prove he had what I said he had. We can’t keep it; he’ll figure out it’s missing before too long. I’ve got to sneak it back to him when I take him the evening report.” 

“How convenient for you,” drawled Stark. Loki frowned at him, and forced himself to slow, spreading the map back out before beginning to refold it more carefully to its proper original shape. 

“It’s sense, Stark. Don’t accuse me of treachery for that.” Loki spread the map flat on the crate and began to refold it, shaping each corner deliberately, letting the conversation swirl around him. The crew, for their part, spoke as if he weren’t there – as if he couldn’t hear them perfectly clearly.

“We can’t trust him.”

“No.”

“Never could, though. We can rely on that much.”

“It’s as Sparrow used to say. You can always trust a dishonest man to _be_ dishonest.” 

“Map might not even be the genuine article.”

“Oh, it’s real enough.”

“How do you reckon that with such assurance?”

“Blood doesn’t lie.”

(Loki loosed a bitter grin at that.)

“If the map’s real, the little blighter might have a real plan.”

“He hates the captain more than any of us. We can trust that.”

“Fair point.”

“How about this?” Loki spoke idly, and his grin widened when the three of them looked at him in a sort of surprise, as if they’d already forgotten he was there. “We’ll move tomorrow night. And we’ll give the rest of the crew the chance to join our little … reorganization of the hierarchy, if you will. Those who are with us, remain with us. Those against – they can take their chances in a longboat with a flask and a pistol.” He tucked the map back into a pocket of his vest.

“A standard decision, quartermaster.” The Widow folded her arms across her chest. “And as to how to prove your loyalty to us?”

“When we strike, leave the captain to me. I’ll give him a chance to go quietly to his marooning.” Loki held out his wounded palm, the blood soaking through the thin bandage. “And if he refuses, I’ll slit his throat myself.”

The company grew still.

“How’s that for loyalty?” Loki hissed, his hand still extended.

“… Sworn and witnessed, Lie-smith.” The Widow clasped his hand, hard, and her gaze was sharp as she looked to Stark and Rogers. After a moment, the two men reached out, laying their hands atop the Widow’s and Loki’s. “We’ll hold you to it.”

Loki gripped her hand, his teeth flashing in a feral grin. A large drop of blood slid from his palm and landed on the top of the table, where the map had laid only moments ago.

* * * * *

“Captain!”

“Mm?” Thor managed. The familiar voice sounded faintly exasperated; probably not the first time his name had been called, then. But he’d been far into his cups just a few hours before, and crawling out of sleep was not of particular interest.

“ _Thor_.” It was his brother, of course, his voice turning insistent. Thor groaned, forced himself to open his good eye, and immediately closed it again against the harsh light of the lantern Loki was holding over him. He was dimly aware of some sort of row taking place out on deck, the sounds of shouts and pounding feet. “Thor, wake _up_.”

“Odin’s beard, Loki.” Thor put a hand to his forehead, half to block what light he could, half to massage at the pounding ache. “This had better be –”

“Banner fell from the rigging.”

Thor jolted, then leapt from the bed, snatching for the eyepatch and tunic he’d tossed carelessly onto the cabin floor. He swung open the door just in time to hear a cry of “ _MAN OVERBOARD!_ ” from the crow’s nest far above. The watch was swarming across the decks, buzzing with a panicked desperation. Bloody hell, hadn’t Loki issued any orders before waking him?

“All hands!” Thor cried, striding onto the quarter deck. “All hands, heave to and make ready a longboat!” His good eye swept over the melee, but despite all the motion, he couldn’t make sense of where Banner had fallen. Maybe they’d already lost sight of him. 

“Sailor!” He whirled and looked up at Korg, standing overhead at the helm. “Have we a bearing on our man?”

Korg hesitated, then solemnly shook his head. Thor growled in frustration and squinted up at the crow’s nest. Lanterns blazed, and there was a moon this night, but there was precious little visible beyond the edge of the deck. “ _Hawke!_ ” Thor bellowed, in a voice well proven to reach the tops of the masts. “ _Sight you our sailor?_ ”

There was no reply. The rest of the crew had appeared on deck by now, holding cutlasses and pistols, assuming a fight. Thor growled in frustration. “It’s not an attack, you fools – we’ve a man overboard! Stop standing around with your thumbs up your arses and heave _to!_ ”

No response. Thor gave a disbelieving laugh, and tumbled down the stairs to the main deck. Even half-drunk, he was better gathered than this lot. “Didn’t you hear me? _We’ve lost a man!_ Banner is probably sinking into the depths by now, but at least we could try to –”

The pressure on his back was light enough that he didn’t register it until a heartbeat after he realized that Banner was among the crew that had appeared from the forecastle. And then, and then, he understood. He jolted a half-step, and the pressure sharpened to a slight point of pain. 

The point of a dagger blade.

He turned his head just slightly, and the pressure on his back eased. He kept his hands low and open as he turned fully, and there, behind him, stood his brother, his gold-hilted dagger in his hand. 

“Sorry, Brother.” Loki grinned, teeth and dagger blade flashing in the moonlight. “But you had to know this was coming.”

“From them, yes,” murmured Thor, as the rest of the crew rushed in. “But not from you.”

If he expected a flicker of guilt or regret, he was doomed to disappointment. Loki only grinned wider, and reached out to grip Thor’s shoulder, swinging him around to face the crew. “Behold, sailors – your captain deposed!” 

A raucous cheer went up from the crew, the lot of them waving their swords in triumph. Stark fired his pistol into the air, howling in triumph, and endured a shout of dismay from Hawke, who was only just sliding the rest of the way down the ratlines. 

“You damn near shot me, Stark!” snapped Hawke, as he joined the crew on deck. Stark just laughed, clapping a hand on his back.

“Take it up with our new captain, sailor.” Stark gave an elaborate bow to Rogers, who grinned and doffed an imaginary cap. Another cheer went up from the pirates, and Thor’s good eye roved over each treacherous member. Banner, Hawke, even – 

“You, Val?” Thor murmured from across the deck. Loki’s grip on his shoulder – and his dagger point resting between Thor’s shoulder blades – made it impossible to approach her. “Even you?”

Somehow, she heard him. Val turned away from where she had been hoisting her ever-present flask in a toast to victory, and walked across the deck, flask still in hand. She stopped in front of him, tilting her head up in regard. “If it’s any consolation, Thor – I took some convincing. But it was your own mistrust what did you in. You should’ve told us about the map.” She shook her head, real regret in her eyes. “Guess you’re more blind than I realized.”

She reached up and yanked the eyepatch from his face. Thor growled, fury welling up and threatening near to choke him. Val laughed and tossed the patch to Rogers, who put it on to the delight of the crew.

“Is that what this is about? The map from our last prize?” Thor shouted desperately to make himself heard over the sounds of jeering celebration. “It leads to nothing. It’s a trick – a forgery.”

“The hell it is!” Val whirled back on him, her own eyes blazing such a fury that Thor took a shaking step back. “The Widow and Stark saw the truth of it – and the captain!” It took Thor a moment to realize _the captain_ meant Rogers, and he felt suddenly sick. “You had it and you hid it from us! You wanted the Tessering Stone all for yourself!”

“I hid from you a false lead, to spare you from the false hope I felt!” Thor was shouting, but his voice was drowned out in the cries from the crew, cries of _Liar_ and _Thief_ and _Betrayer._ “Listen to me! There is no map!”

“ _You_ never saw the true map, Brother,” whispered a voice in his ear. “But we found it, sure enough.”

Thor’s good eye widened. He whirled, fast enough to break Loki’s hold on him – only to see Loki leveling the point of his blade directly at Thor’s throat.

“Treacherous _snake,_ ” Thor hissed, or tried to, but he could hear the desperation in his own voice. The despair. Of them all, he’d thought – he’d hoped – that his brother, at least, he could place his faith in. Surely, he understood Loki’s jealousy, his occasional resentment at always playing second fiddle to Thor as captain. But they’d been a crew in their own right. They’d fought well together – led well together.

Well, maybe not that last one. He could hear Rogers laughing behind him, and he turned, feeling the fury well up afresh.

“Well, Thor?” Rogers wiggled his eyebrows at him, which was somehow all the more infuriating when the man still sported Thor’s eyepatch. Thor growled, and Loki’s grip on him tightened. “There’s only one thing left for you to do. Will you agree to go to your marooning quietly, or shall we have your quartermaster carve you up instead?”

“What’s the difference?” Thor gave a bitter laugh. “Death is death. And a dagger in the back is a far quicker fate than being driven mad by thirst out on the open sea. Do as you will, Brother.”

The crew jeered. “Brave man!” cried Hawke. “A short life and a merry one! Why should death be any different?”

“I see no bravery.” The Widow spat on the deck. “I see only a coward, afraid to take what slender chance at life he has.”

“He’s given up.” Stark sheathed his cutlass, folding his arms across his chest. “Even a pirate can only take so much betrayal.”

“A fast death, then.” Banner stepped up, his eyes harder than Thor had ever seen them. “He deserves that much mercy.”

As the pirates’ excitement grew, Thor could feel the stillness at his back. “Do it, Brother,” he murmured. “It’s my right to ask.”

“Why?” Loki’s voice came like a whisper of breeze floating through the night air. “Why call me Brother, even as I stand here with a dagger to your back?”

“Because it is true,” said Thor. “Now do it, and be quick.”

But there was only stillness around them. The stillness seemed to spread, overtaking the rest of the crew. They began to frown, hands tightening on their weapons.

“Loki,” said Stark. “You swore us an oath.”

“So I did,” snapped Loki. “But even I am not so heartless as to wish to cover my hands in the blood of my once-brother. Someone lend me a pistol!”

Banner approached cautiously, and Thor was shoved away as Loki stepped forward to take the pistol. Was Loki’s hand shaking slightly as he took the weapon? No, Thor decided; it was only wishful thinking. No regret. Well, perhaps just enough for Loki to want to put some distance between himself and the act of Thor’s murder.

Surely no one would blame Thor for failing to find that comforting.

Loki looked down, seeming to gather himself, then snapped his head up. He raised the pistol, aimed for Thor’s chest. Thor bowed his head. 

“Safe passage to Fiddler’s Green, Brother,” said Loki, cocking the hammer. And then froze, for the sound of a second cocked pistol echoed after.

Just behind Loki’s head.

“That will be quite enough of that, Lie-smith.” Stark stood just to the side of Loki, wiggling his fingers expectantly. Loki made to turn, but behind him, Val pressed the barrel of her pistol into the back of his head. Loki froze, then looked back at Stark, who grinned at him. Eyes glittering, Loki turned his wrist, slowly releasing the pistol into Stark’s waiting hand.

“Thanks for that,” said Stark, as Loki stared at him. “What? You didn’t really think we’d trust a man not to betray us after he’s betrayed his own brother, did you?”

“He’s _not_ –” Loki began to rage, but Stark cut him off.

“No more talking, Silvertongue.” Stark nodded to Banner, who came up and forced a gag into Loki’s mouth. Loki’s eyes were shining with hatred and fury, though Banner ignored this, even as he began to bind Loki’s wrists together. Thor began to shift his weight, seeing a silver of a chance – but then the Widow and Hawke were before him, the Widow leveling blades at him as Hawke took to binding and gagging Thor as well. Stark and Rogers watched it all, their smirks so identical that Thor found himself wanting to throttle them.

“Korg?” called Stark, once the former captain and quartermaster were sufficiently immobilized. “Did you find it?”

“Nothin’ here, New Quartermaster Stark.” Korg strode out of Thor’s cabin, clutching an armful of parchment. “Well, plenty here, but not the one thing we were actually looking for.”

Rogers sneered. “Where’d you hide it, Thor?” He pulled off the eyepatch, throwing it in Thor’s face. “Where’s the map to the Tessering Stone?”

“Banner!” The Widow was shaking her head. “Check the Lie-smith.”

Understanding lit in Banner’s eyes, and he turned Loki roughly towards him, searching through his vest and tunic. After a moment, Banner gave a shout of triumph, and unfolded the map to hold before the crew.

“Let me see it.” Rogers strode forward, examining the map. He opened it, studying the lines, then snapped his fingers for his new quartermaster. Stark materialized at his side, only to yelp when Rogers ran the blade of his sword across Stark’s forearm.

“Can’t be too sure, Stark,” grinned Rogers, wiping the surface of the map across his bloodied sword’s edge. The map flared with blue light, and Rogers’s grin widened. “Proof enough for me.”

“So Loki hung onto the map all along.” Stark stepped towards him, grinning up into the cold rage shining from Loki’s eyes. “Is there anyone you _didn’t_ lie to?”

“So what do we do with them?” asked Val.

“We’ve plenty of pistols on deck,” said Hawke.

“No need to waste bullets.” The Widow wrapped a hand around Thor’s neck, squeezing just enough to make him struggle against her hold, against the gag in his mouth and the bindings on his wrist. “Let’s just toss them overboard.”

“Overboard, yes. But in a longboat, with a pistol and flask.” Rogers stepped forward. “You may have come into this world apart – but you’ll get to leave it together.”

Thor jolted again. _Together?_ Together to die with his lying serpent of a brother – who would probably shoot him long before Thor could decide to do it himself. He found himself wishing for a more merciful drowning.

The Widow was grumbling, probably disappointed to complete a mutiny without any bloodshed. “It’s a waste of a good longboat.”

“Come now, Widow.” Stark flashed a smile, apparently in agreement with his captain. “Let’s make certain to show a _few_ of us pirates have some honor left in us.”

* * * * *

“Traitor,” said Thor.

The first thing Thor had done, once the _Avenger_ had sailed off into the horizon, was to maneuver himself to kick both pistols over the side of the longboat. Loki, as gagged as Thor and apparently more tightly-bound, had only glared at him – unable, in that moment, to offer any resistance. 

But it was Loki who had been able to conjure a small dagger into his hand and patiently, methodically cut apart the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Once freed, he’d reached up and yanked the gag from his mouth, tossing it into the sea (though he kept the ropes; perhaps they’d come in handy later). He’d held the dagger then, considering, while Thor watched him with fury and mistrust blazing from his good eye. It was still some time before true sunrise, and in the watery gray light of pre-dawn, his brother looked almost corpse-light – lines etched deeply into his face, skin pale, the empty socket of his right eye gaping open. It was, Loki had to admit, a slightly disconcerting sight.

No sense in untying him just yet, then. Loki sheathed the dagger into his belt, then crouched closer to Thor, who continued to glare at him.

Loki reached for the other’s gag, and Thor recoiled, looking murderous. Loki pulled back, raising his hands. “Just thought we could have a chat,” said Loki, indicating the gag. 

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Loki saw Thor’s shoulders relax, just slightly. Loki leaned forward cautiously, and after a few moments, he pulled the gag away.

And the first word out of Thor’s mouth was accusing Loki of treachery. Loki shook his head almost mournfully.

“Such harshness, Brother. After all I’ve done for you.” Loki gave a theatrical sigh. “How disappointing.”

“Untie me,” said Thor. Loki gave a little laugh.

“In a minute.” Loki held up Thor’s gag. “Shall I hang onto this for you? It could make a fine replacement eyepatch until you find something better.”

Thor growled wordlessly. Loki chuckled, tossing the gag overboard, then sat back in the longboat with a thud, rocking them from side to side. They sat there, looking across at one another, Thor twisting against his bonds in apparent discomfort. Loki winced sympathetically.

“I would like to untie you. Truly. I just have to make certain you’re not immediately going to throttle me. Since you can’t shoot me. You know, I can’t decide if you got rid of the pistols to keep me from shooting you – or if you got rid of them to avoid the temptation of shooting _me._ Are you even sure yourself?”

“Loki, enough.” Thor looked away from him, gaze focusing on the distant horizon, the sky still dark-gray and still. “Just tell me one thing. Why?”

“Why?” Loki echoed.

“Why did you betray me?”

“How many times have I told you, Thor?” Loki gave a little shrug. “Trust no one, for all will betray you, in the end. You never did listen.”

“Oh, but I did listen.” Some of the anger seemed to have drained out of Thor. He sounded … tired. Tired and defeated. “I tried to be a good captain to them all, and even counted a few as friends. But trust them? Never. My trust, I saved only for you.” He turned to look Loki in the eye. “And even that cost me.”

Loki quirked a half smile. “Only that’s not true, is it? You did trust them. And, oh, how I tried to warn you! How much discontent did you see in them yourself? You wouldn’t listen. _Their tune will change when we gain the next prize_ – only for their resentment to grow when they’d invent some new reason for dissatisfaction. Or _it’s merely harmless gossip_ – as if gossip is ever anything of the kind. You gave them every benefit of the doubt, up until the night they put a knife to your back.”

“No. You put the knife to my back.” Thor’s face twisted. “And I’m still waiting to hear why.”

Loki’s smile faded. He twisted his hands together, and his voice came out low. “I did it to save you.”

A burst of harsh laughter from Thor. “Now, that’s a funny way to look at things.”

“But no less true.” Loki dared to move a bit closer to Thor, steadily meeting his gaze. “I tried to warn you of their treachery, the danger of it – but you wouldn’t listen. So I took action into my own hands.”

“I see.” Thor leaned back against the hull of the longboat, looking bitterly amused. “And getting marooned along with me? Was that part of your plan, as well?”

“Of course,” said Loki, and Thor snorted. “That’s why I came up with the plan to shoot you if you wouldn’t go quietly. I needed them to believe I’d betray you, so they’d become convinced I’d inevitably betray them if given the opportunity, and toss me into the longboat with you. Well,” he added, almost thoughtfully, “The original promise was to slit your throat, but you see my point.”

“Only too well,” said Thor, and he nodded at the dagger at Loki’s belt. “Are you going to get on with it, then?”

Loki’s brow furrowed. “Cutting you lose?”

“Slitting my throat.”

Loki studied him for a long moment. “I’m genuinely disappointed in you, Brother. You’re not thinking it through.”

“Oh, I understand well enough,” Thor began. Loki rolled his eyes, then closed them as his brother continued, beginning to weave his hands in the air in a complex pattern of spellcasting. If Thor paid this any heed, he gave no sign. “Your original plan of mutiny against me, and getting one step closer to taking the Avenger for yourself, has backfired. So now you must spin a new web of lies, convincing me that this was your plan all along, that you weren’t really intending to betray me, that it was all a clever ruse to get me off the ship and out of the hands of my soon-to-be murderous crew – even though the only member of the crew who actually tried to kill me this night has been _you_.”

“Widow wanted to toss us overboard,” murmured Loki, eyes still closed, hands still conjuring.

“So now,” said Thor, as if Loki hadn’t spoken, “We are stranded together, with no way to steer our course, no course to speak of anyway, and are certain to die of thirst and exposure – unless we’re so unlucky as to be found by a merchant crew or naval ship that will only drag us to the nearest gallows and end what was always destined to be –”

Thor stopped dead, a half-heartbeat after the moment Loki felt the smooth weight solidify in his hand. He opened his eyes and grinned at his brother.

“You know,” said Loki, holding up the large blue gem cradled in his palm, “I never go anywhere without an escape plan.”

“Is that –?” Thor made to more forward, and seemed surprised to find himself still bound. “Surely, that’s not –”

“The Tessering Stone? Of course it is.” Loki took pity, kneeling in front of Thor and holding the gem in front of him so that his brother could see it. “Found it in the captain’s cabin of our last prize.”

“But – no.” Was it wrong of Loki to be so enjoying Thor’s gobsmacked expression? “No, you told me you found a map. You _showed_ me the map. And it was a false lead – a forgery.”

“Ha! Yes, I was rather proud of myself for that one. A _map,_ indeed.” Loki snorted. “What rank amateurs, to believe such a thing as a map leading to buried treasure. What pirate would _bury_ their valuables, instead of spending them?”

A kind of flabbergasted comprehension was dawning on Thor’s face. Loki drank it in. “You made the map.”

“I did!” Loki reached forward, tucking the Tessering Stone into an inner pocket of Thor’s vest, then unsheathed his dagger and began cutting away the bonds on Thor’s ankles. “Added a bit of blood magic, to make the whole thing seem properly piratical. I was particularly proud of that inspiration. The map will lead them to the nearest Spanish treasure fortress, I’m afraid; don’t think the Spanish Navy will be particularly pleased to see them. Pity, really.”

Thor was shaking his head, even as he turned so that Loki could next cut at the ropes around his wrists. “But if the merchant captain we stole it from had the Stone, why didn’t he use it to escape us?”

“Superstitious fool was too mistrusting of magic to use it for its intended purpose.” Loki snorted, pulling away the last of the ropes. Thor brought his hands around with a sigh, shaking out his arms and rubbing at his sore wrists. Loki sheathed the dagger, then settled back into the hull of the longboat. “I’d wager he was intending to hand it over to whichever bloody government it is he swears allegiance to. Unless he was planning on selling it.”

“But if you had it all this time – the crew mutinied because they thought I was hiding the Tessering Stone from them! If you’d told them you’d found it – if you’d told _me_ –”

“If I’d told them, they would’ve taken it from me and marooned us without it,” said Loki. “Mutiny was inevitable, Thor.”

“But you didn’t tell _me_.” Thor’s good eye searched Loki’s face. “You made me think you’d betrayed me.”

“I’ve tried to warn you of their treachery before. You wouldn’t listen.” Loki met his gaze steadily. “I did what I had to to save you. To save _us._ ”

The truth of this seemed to strike Thor. He grew silent, looking out at the horizon. Loki felt something in his chest twist. It hadn’t just been a ship Thor had lost this night.

“You’re right,” Thor said at last, and Loki could hear the pain in his voice. “I trusted them because I wanted to be able to trust them. It was a mistake.”

“You thought of them as family. _Your_ family.” Loki gave a little shrug. “Don’t blame yourself for being a more honorable captain than they deserved.”

“I trusted them, yes.” Thor turned back and looked at him steadily. “But they were never my family.” He paused. “Thank you for what you did for me tonight, Brother.”

Loki felt the smile tugging faintly at his lips. “It _is_ my duty as your quartermaster to watch your back.”

“Even if you have to hold a dagger there to do it.” Thor chuckled. “To think I ever could have doubted you.”

“Well, I do like to play my part well.” Loki gave a wink, then watched as Thor reached into his vest and pulled out the bright blue gem. It looked almost golden in the growing light of the coming dawn. 

Loki waved his hand, green light flaring, and a moment later, he held a conjured eye patch towards his brother. “Trade you.”

Thor smiled, handing over the gem and sliding the new patch over his empty eye. “Does this mean you know how the Stone works?”

“I may not have gotten the chance to yet try it out, but I’ve had ten years to read up on the ancient legends. I should be able to get the hang of it.” Loki arched an eyebrow. “Where shall we go?"

“It can take us anywhere the sun shines, eh?” 

“And beyond,” said Loki, grinning with the excitement, the _thrill_ of it. What worlds were out there somewhere, waiting to be seen and explored?

“… I’ve always wanted to go to Singapore,” said Thor thoughtfully. Loki rolled his eyes.

“The cosmos at our disposal, and you want to settle for _Singapore?_ You disappoint me, Brother.”

“Let’s start small while you’re still figuring out how to use the thing, eh?”

Loki groaned amiably. “You’re the captain. Fine! Singapore it is.” He raised his palm, and as the Stone within began to glow, the first sliver of sunrise burst across the horizon. “Awaiting your orders.”

“Make sail, quartermaster,” said Thor, and Loki grinned. 

He snapped his fingers, and they vanished into the golden light of the sun.


End file.
